


The Most Stubborn Being in All of Existence

by TheIneffableLily



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Consensual Sex, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley is in denial, First Time, Kissing, M/M, Object Penetration, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Teasing, but crowley is terrible at communicating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21642310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIneffableLily/pseuds/TheIneffableLily
Summary: Crowley is stubbornly clinging to the need to be always right. Aziraphale is making it really difficult.Sequel to THE MOST OVERRATED THING IN ALL OF CREATION.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 513
Collections: Ixnael’s Recommendations, Just Enough Of A Bastard to be Worth Knowing Biblically, Top Aziraphale Recs





	The Most Stubborn Being in All of Existence

**Author's Note:**

> So many people asked for a sequel to THE MOST OVERRATED THING IN ALL OF CREATION that I just had to write this. I hope yall enjoy it :)

When Aziraphale called, Crowley let the answering machine pick up, as he usually did. The chipper voice greeted him and then said, “I think I figured out what I did wrong.”

The angel waited for an answer.

Crowley waited too because picking up the phone so quickly would only make him look desperate and he didn't want to look desperate.

“Are you there?” Aziraphale asked from the answering machine. “I think I solved the issue we had when you were here.”

Crowley paced in front of the answering machine, showing remarkable discipline for someone who had spent the better part of the past two days debating whether he should go and see his friend or not.

The last time he had been to the bookshop, he had let his guard down and allowed the angel to seduce him with sweet words and innocent suggestions. Yes, he did see the irony in this; no, the fact that he had been the one to insist on a little experimentation did not matter. He was a demon, he was supposed to lead the virtuous astray – it was in the job description. Aziraphale, on the other hand, was an angel. If one of them should have shown a little more restraint, it should have been him.

He shouldn't have made such a salacious offer, it mattered not that they had both been extremely inebriated at the time. He shouldn't have teased him with gentle touches, especially after forcing Crowley to sober up! Really, the _audacity_! And then he definitely – _definitely!_ \- shouldn't have reached between Crowley's legs for that sweet spot, stroking it with careful but persistent fingers, guiding him to a pleasure so intense he'd felt on the brink of discorporation.

Not that Crowley had been thinking about that. He hadn't. Not at all.

“I must have missed you,” Aziraphale said. “Oh well, you can call me back when you-”

Crowley grabbed the phone. “What issue?”

“Oh, you _are_ there! Hello.”

Crowley didn't answer.

Aziraphale said, “I'm referring to the sex issue.”

“What sex issue?”

The line went quiet for a moment. When Aziraphale spoke again, it was clear he'd misunderstood the defensiveness in Crowley's voice.

“I don't mean to imply that there is anything wrong with you,” he said. “A lot of people have difficulty really connecting with their bodies, so it's only natural-”

“Angel, I have no idea what you're saying.”

“Oh.”

He was disappointed. Crowley congratulated himself on a job well done. He had made the mistake of giving the angel too much power over him, allowing him to lay him down and put him in a vulnerable position, and what for? A few seconds of pleasure?

It wasn't as though Crowley had spent the last two days pacing through the empty rooms in his apartment, glaring at the plants as he angrily sprayed them with cold water because he found that taking his frustration out on them kept his mind from wandering. He definitely hadn't spent the last two days trying not to think about what they had done in the back of Aziraphale's bookshop. He hadn't thought once – not even _once_! - about his fingers or his tongue and how they seemed to find the most sensitive spot in his body with ease, making him come again and again until he'd been so overstimulated that he couldn't stand the touch anymore.

He hadn't thought of that at all. After all, he'd been so vehement about how pointless the entire thing had been that admitting otherwise now would be humiliating and Crowley wouldn't be able to live with that.

Besides, it wasn't as though he desperately wanted to do it again.

He didn't.

He hadn't thought of it. Not even once.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale was saying. “Are you listening to me?”

“Yes.”

“What I mean is that I think I understand why you found the... uhn... experimentation we did a little-”

“Pointless?”

“Yes. That.”

Crowley sat down and tried to cross his legs only to find something there that was suddenly pulsing with a familiar need. He had tried to remain sexless for those two days since the feeling of the tight jeans against his effort felt constricting and distracting. However, as soon as he let his mind wander back to Aziraphale ( _which he didn't do!_ ), the smooth space between his legs changed, something he'd only realized once he felt the muscles in his sex contracting, suddenly empty and craving.

Ignoring it wasn't making the craving go away.

Aziraphale asked, “Do you still want to try it again?”

Crowley pressed his legs tight together, sending a pleasurable jolt up his body.

“I fail to see what we could gain from this,” he said.

“I was under the impression that you were curious.”

“What gave you that impression?”

The next pause was charged with confusion and maybe a little frustration. Aziraphale's voice was terse when he answered, “You literally said 'I am curious' and 'you should satisfy my curiosity'.”

Crowley twitched in his seat, cursing himself for letting that slip in a moment of weakness. In his defense, Aziraphale had spent the last fifty minutes on his knees, worshiping his pussy and turning his brain into a useless puddle.

“I don't remember that,” Crowley said.

There was a sigh turned to static through the phone line. However, Aziraphale's voice was understanding when he said, “Crowley, you know you have the right to change your mind, yes? I won't be offended. If you would rather we didn't do this-”

“Does 8 o'clock work for you?”

Aziraphale was taken aback by the sudden change in direction. Crowley didn't offer any explanations.

“I... of course, but you don't have to-”

“I'll see you at 8 o'clock.”

Crowley hung up before the angel could question him further. In the silence that followed, he rubbed his eyes, quietly chastising himself for doing the thing he'd promised himself he wouldn't do.

“Stupid demon.”

Across the room, a bright green fern shook its leaves in a giggling way.

Crowley glowered at it. “What are you laughing at, compost?”

The fern withered and died in the blink of an eye. It made Crowley feel a little better.

It wouldn't be a problem. He had done this before. He'd lied perfectly still as Aziraphale had pleasured him, over and over, and he hadn't made a sound. He'd gone as far as to miracle his voice away just so he wouldn't have to give the other man the satisfaction of proving that Crowley was wrong. If he had managed to save face then, he could do it again now.

Thirty minutes. That was all he was going to allow himself. Thirty minutes, just to quiet that craving, just to see that it really hadn't been all that good and his memory was playing tricks on him. After thirty minutes, he would come up with an excuse- No. He better announce it from the get-go. He was in a hurry. Places to go. People to see. Shady deals and temptation to be spread around the globe. Yes, that would do.

And he wouldn't let his guard down this time. He wouldn't ask the angel to do this again.

After this, he would truly never think of it again.

Aziraphale had his back to the door when Crowley came in, poring over an ancient volume on his desk. He shot a glance over his shoulder and a cheerful, “Oh, hello! You're a little late.”

“Not late enough if you're not done working.”

“Just checking the books. A vital part of owning and maintaining a business.”

“Maintaining a business,” Crowley repeated. “You never sell anything. This is more a library than a bookshop.”

Another glance over the shoulder. “You're in a mood.”

Crowley huffed through his nose. He wasn't sure what he'd expected to happen upon arrival, but he hadn't anticipated small talk.

This counts towards the thirty minutes, he told himself.

Finally, Aziraphale put his book away and got up. “Dinner?”

Crowley stared at him behind tinted glasses. “ _Dinner_?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You might be hungry.”

“I don't have time for dinner. I only have thirty minutes.”

The angel's shoulders sagged a little. “Ah... I was hoping we would take our time. Go slower.”

“Last time, you wasted two hours just licking my neck.”

The exaggeration seemed to amuse the angel, who laughed, “It was _maybe_ fifteen minutes.”

“Still, too long,” Crowley said, already going to the back of the shop and shrugging his jacket off. “Where do you want me?”

“Honestly, Crowley, do you have to make this sound so clinical?” Aziraphale said, following him.

“I do.”

“If you relaxed and enjoyed the process, I'm sure you'd have a lot more fun.”

“You said it yourself-” Crowley kicked off his shoes and pants in one swift motion. “I am only here to satisfy my curiosity. Well then, satisfy it. You got half an hour.”

He spread his arms open, standing in the middle of the room in nothing but sunglasses. Aziraphale watched him from the door, fascinated.

“Angel?”

“Yes?”

“My eyes are up here.”

Aziraphale glanced at his face, then down again, then up. “Sorry. I do find you absolutely gorgeous like this.”

Crowley had never given much thought on the attractiveness of his corporeal form. It wasn't the purpose of it. He was aware that other people looked at him appreciatively from time to time; on the few occasions he'd favored a more female-looking form, he'd received some pretty aggressive male attention. It didn't affect him, it was an irrelevant consequence of humans being horny little fucks.

This, on the other hand, made him feel flattered, even though he didn't want to. The fact that Aziraphale could become so distracted just by looking at him made Crowley feel just a hint of pride in himself, as though being wanted was a good thing.

“You're stalling. _Again_.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Romance is dead with you, it really is.”

“You're eating pussy, angel. How romantic did you expect this to be?”

The crudeness made the angel wince, but he said, “That's not what we're doing.”

“Ah... good. That's good.”

“Unless you want to-”

“No.”

“Then I would like to try something else. If you... excuse me-”

He took a step forward to take Crowley's glasses away. For a moment, the angel looked into his eyes and Crowley feared he would say something sweet again, a coy compliment on his appearance that would leave his heart beating just a little faster. Instead, he twirled the glasses between his fingers until it turned long and silky.

Crowley looked at it as Aziraphale held up the shiny piece of black fabric. “What is that for?”

“Turn around.”

“Are you going to tie me?” Crowley asked, examining how the idea made him feel and finding himself just a little bit curious. He knew humans did that, though he hadn't yet figured out why they enjoyed it so much.

“I'm going to blindfold you.”

“Why?”

“Are you going to question everything I do again? You say I move too slowly, but you don't exactly help.”

Crowley snorted with contempt but did as he as told. For a second, he could still feel Aziraphale's eyes appraising his body, but one moment after, he was in the dark.

“Some people don't like that,” Aziraphale said, warm and soft as his quick hands tied a knot behind Crowley's head. “If it's too much for you-”

“It's not,” he said. He quite liked the dark. Sometimes, it could be oppressive, but now it was only soothing.

Aziraphale planted a kiss on his shoulder. Crowley could feel him smiling.

“What a brave thing you are.”

Before he could say anything that would get Crowley blushing any further, he said, “If I trip all over your books or stub my toe on the coffee table, I'm leaving.”

“Can't you just trust me to take care of you?”

“Trust is against my nature, angel,” he said. “But I'll do my best.”

“Good.” One more kiss on his shoulder, then another on the back of his neck. A reassuring hand snaked around his waist, the shirtsleeve warm against Crowley's bare skin. He wished that the angel would just undress and press their bodies together, but didn't dare ask for it.

“I went too fast last time.”

“Once again, two hours. Licking my neck.”

“Fifteen minutes, and it doesn't matter. I gave you too much at once. Kissing your neck... then rubbing your clit... then licking you so vigorously...”

Crowley felt a warm wave of arousal wash over him.

“I should have taken my time, treated you a little more carefully. I'm so used to lying with humans who have done this before that I didn't even think your body wasn't used to it.”

“Then what will you do?” Crowley asked, like a foe offering a challenge. “Lick my neck for _four_ hours?”

Aziraphale chuckled at that. “Fine, I can see you hate that.” Lips brushed over his neck making the hair there stand on end. “I promise no licking, no kissing, no biting.”

“Yes, that's-that's what I wanted.”

Aziraphale pulled his lips away, leaving a little tickle behind that made Crowley itch. He wouldn't have minded teeth sinking into his skin and nibbling along his nape. It would have been more satisfying than the unfulfilled promise of the angel's lips.

“Come here.”

Unseeing, Crowley was led in the dark through the empty space. One false step and he might trip and fall on his face.

 _I don't want to fall_ , he thought, feeling a pinch of panic in the pit of his stomach. As Aziraphale held him tighter around the waist, though, he found the panic receding. Trust did go against his nature, but he trusted the angel, which was equally calming and alarming.

Aziraphale helped him lie on the couch. Crowley assumed the angel was going to kneel before him again, but this time he sat down and rested the demon's head on his knee. Crowley twitched on the cushions for a moment, trying to get comfortable. There wasn't much space for the both of them in this position, so his legs would either dangle over the arm of the couch, or spread open. He chose the latter.

“So beautiful,” the angel said, one hand finding its way to Crowley's hair and another sliding lightly down his chest, fingertips tracing a line downwards to his stomach, then back up again.

Crowley sighed and hoped it sounded more exasperated than pleased. “There you go with the sap again.”

“This would be much easier if you weren't so tense.”

Fingertips slid past his navel to the thin pubic hair, then back up to his throat again.

“I'm not tense.”

“Yes, you are. Regularly.”

Crowley crossed his hands over his stomach, but Aziraphale brushed them out of the way.

“Maybe,” Crowley said, hands obediently at his sides, “you got nothing because I'm right and you are wrong. _Regularly_.”

“No, I'm not giving up on you so easily. True, I wanted more time for this-” Down his chest, past his navel, then back up again. “These bodies come with so many pleasure points. I wish I could find them all and show you how good they can feel. Alas, you don't have enough time-”

His other hand was stroking his hair, which Crowley admitted to be rather soothing.

“No, I'm in such a hurry,” he said, lazily. “Always in a hurry.”

And down his throat... past his chest... past his navel... a single finger slipped between his labia. Aziraphale gave his clit only the slightest stroke and Crowley bit his lip to prevent any sounds from coming out. Suddenly, Crowley was happy. Truly, fantastically happy. He would never admit it out loud – or even to himself – but there were few things on earth that felt as good as letting someone else touch him in such an intimate manner. The night before, he'd tried to do the same thing to himself, but the action, while pleasurable, was lacking in something. This, however, felt _complete_ , and if he were a little less obstinate, he'd admit defeat.

Alas, he knew the angel was keeping a close eye on his face and schooled his expression to stay as neutral as possible.

“Goodness, you are so wet already,” Aziraphale said, his finger moving around without focus, exploring nooks and crannies he'd previously ignored. “You're lucky your body responds so well to being touched.”

Crowley grunted a vague sound that didn't mean anything in particular.

Only a few more minutes of this. Only one orgasm. After that, he would leave and never do this again.

Or maybe he'd do this one more time. Just one more. If he needed it, that is.

However, Aziraphale wasn't trying to bring him to a climax yet. His finger moved past his clit and inserted itself into his vagina, making Crowley startle.

Aziraphale pulled out immediately.

“Did that hurt? I'm so sorry!”

“I'm not made of fucking glass, angel!” Crowley snarled. “Just-just do what you were doing.”

He felt the angel's hesitant hand make its way back to his pussy. His index finger pushed between his lips a lot more slowly than before.

Crowley gave himself a moment to enjoy the back and forth motion of his touch. Aziraphale had done this to him before, but only briefly. Now, he was paying attention to it, making it linger as he explored the inside of his lover, curling his finger against a sweet spot that made Crowley want to spread his wings and fly.

“Crowley? Does it hurt?”

The question hit his ears as Aziraphale began to slip away. Crowley shook his head frantically.

“Not at all.”

“Do you think you could handle something a little thicker?”

The demon smirked up at the angel. “Aziraphale, are you planning on fucking me tonight? Maybe I should have let you buy me dinner first.”

Though he couldn't see his face, he'd bet anything that Aziraphale was turning a furious shade of red.

“Must you be so crude?” he said, his voice coy.

“Oh, I do beg your pardon, angel. Are you planning on _making love_ to me tonight? Is that better?”

The silence was flustered and Crowley was delighted. It felt good to ruffle the angel's feathers, especially when he could manipulate his body so well with only one finger.

“You are incorrigible,” Aziraphale sighed, but he inserted a second finger into him. “And no, that's not what I have in mind.”

Crowley stretched his arms up and pushed against the angel's hand. If being having his clit rubbed into oblivion had been desperately bright, this was warm like stoking a dying amber, trying to make it burn. It was fucking glorious and he'd gladly welcome more of it.

“This isn't bad at all,” he admitted, but casually. A “oh, how nice the weather looks this afternoon” sort of remark rather than “you're going to fuck my brains out if you keep doing what you're doing”.

“Good. I'd say that's a step in the right direction.”

“I just don't see it going anywhere.”

“Then let me try something else.”

He pulled away and Crowley took a deep breath, clutching at the empty space Aziraphale had left behind. He concentrated, instead, on the way the angel was still playing with his hair.

 _He's still here_ , Crowley thought, finding great comfort in that truth. _He's not going anywhere_.

The next time Aziraphale touched him, it wasn't with his fingers, but rather with something smooth and a little cold. He dragged it along his pussy, teasing the hair with the blunt tip, then rubbed the length along his slit. Crowley guessed it was thicker than two fingers, but only slightly, and that it was about five inches long.

“Do you think you can take this in, my dear?”

“Didn't want to make an effort for a demon?”

Aziraphale's tongue snapped with distaste, but he continued to caress him with the toy.

“I wish you'd stop saying things like that. That's not true.”

“You're still an angel. I won't be offended if you have standards,” Crowley said, though it wasn't entirely true. He was too horny to be offended _now_ , but he'd probably feel differently once that was dealt with.

“This isn't about me, it's all for you. Besides, you told me you don't like the mess. This will be cleaner.”

Crowley was strangely touched by that. The angel was putting his own needs second to his because he didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Were he a better person, he would have thanked him for it.

“Besides,” Aziraphale added, in a lower voice, “the size is more manageable.”

“You say this humbly, I'm sure.”

Aziraphale let go of his hair to spread the lips of his pussy open. Very quietly, he said, “It's true, though,” and now Crowley was wondering about how the angel looked when naked. The thought had crossed his mind several times over the past three days, but not like this, not with a vivid mental image of a hard, thick cock standing erect, proud and maybe a little intimidating.

He wondered if it would hurt at all to have him inside because the toy Aziraphale was currently using, small as it might be, didn't fit as easily as his fingers had. It had to be pushed a little more forcefully and at a certain angle to fit him properly. As soon as he got the position right, that soothing hand went back to stroking his hair, which helped him relax his muscles and let the damn thing in. It was made of something hard, which Crowley assumed to be plastic, and didn't give an inch where Aziraphale's fingers had been flexible and easy to fit around a very pronounced bend Crowley hadn't even noticed to be there the first time. It caused the smallest discomfort; it wasn't painful but rather... foreign, something he'd have to get used to.

Crowley swallowed a lump in his throat and a little whimper slipped through his lips.

Aziraphale shushed him. “Easy... that's it... You're doing so well. Let me know if it's too much.”

It wasn't. It was definitely invasive and Crowley was secretly thankful that Aziraphale was taking his time, pulling it in and out to get him used to the motion, each time pushing it another inch further; however, the feeling of being forced open and taken in such way made his stomach flutter with a new form of warmth. His cunt was closing around it greedily, wanting to keep it in, keep him filled and happy.

He wanted to be stretched and prepared, ready for something better, _thicker_ -

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale said. “I”m sorry, Crowley. We're way past thirty minutes-”

The toy started slipping away. Crowley held Aziraphale's wrist in a deathly grasp.

“Don't you fucking dare.”

“But what about your-”

“They can wait.”

With that, he forced the toy back in himself. When it was fully sheathed, he sighed with relief and lied back down, momentarily lost in the feeling of being completely full. The plastic thing that Aziraphale was using to penetrate him was hard and slick and it fit perfectly inside him. His sex squeezed it, then let go a few times. He didn't want it to slip off. He'd be devastated if it slipped off.

Aziraphale was quiet as he continued to stroke his hair. Crowley's chest heaved and his cunt throbbed with this newfound pleasure. He needed to find a justification, anything at all because the angel was bound to ask him how that felt.

No questions came, though, and suddenly the thing inside of him began to slide out. He curled his hands into fists and told himself not to move. If Aziraphale brought the whole thing to an end now, he'd go insane. However, the angel simply pushed it back in again and Crowley sighed with pleasure, a thick lump in his throat threatening to dissolve into a moan if he didn't watch himself closely.

Aziraphale brushed his hair back, fucking him with a slow-paced motion. Crowley turned his face away and expected the angel to say something, to ask him if he found this better, to which Crowley would give a snarky answer – that is, if he could form a cohesive thought. Because he was stubborn, yes, but also because he didn't know.

This was different than what they'd done before, less intense, more intimate, but he couldn't tell if it was better. The toy being pushed in and out of him made him want for something more, awakened a deeper craving than the one he had experienced when the angel had kissed him down there. His tongue had lapped at his entrance and his clit and thrown him into violent orgasms that had wrecked his body and mind. This, though, was much more intense, while at the same time unable to push him over that edge he'd fallen over so effortlessly before.

Aziraphale pushed the toy back in once more, twisting it so that its slight curve pressed against that sweet spot again, merciless yet not enough. Crowley's mouth opened wide but didn't make a sound. His left hand grasped Aziraphale's arm, trying to force him to move faster, but the angel shushed lovingly.

“Let go... go on, you can let go...”

Crowley's fingers grasped harder, then released his shirt.

“That's it. Let me take care of you. I can see you like this much better.”

Crowley took a shuddering breath. He wanted to roll his hips in rhythm with the angel's strokes, grinding that toy with his hungry cunt until it brought him to a satisfying climax.

“It's... good,” was all he managed to say.

“Yes, I can see that. And you're taking it in so well, too. Not everyone enjoys this, especially not the first time they try it. Some people can't feel pleasure like this at all without some sort of external stimulation. Don't worry, though, I promised I'd stay away from your clitoris this time.”

Crowley rolled his hips, trying to increase the speed, but Aziraphale insisted on that slow rhythm.

“If... if you could move faster...” Crowley said, a quiet request that was barely audible.

“We tried faster, my dear,” Aziraphale said, not even considering it. “It didn't work.”

“But-but it might work now.”

“I remember how quickly you became overstimulated last time. Wasn't that unpleasant? It was too much in a matter of seconds. We're not risking that tonight. Besides, you're clearly enjoying it more.”

He twisted the toy again and Crowley let out a gasp that turned into a humiliating moan when the angel twisted it again.

“See? You didn't make these sounds the last time we tried this.”

Crowley shook his head, cornered and desperate. “I don't think... I-I can't... I can't come...”

He let out a long breath. The feeling of that thing going in and out of him was going to drive him insane.

“Not right away, but we'll just have to be patient,” Aziraphale said. “Since you're not in a hurry anymore, we can do this properly.”

Crowley squirmed and whined. This wasn't going to go anywhere. Aziraphale was going to keep up that torturous rhythm the rest of the night, fucking him inch by inch, taking him to the brink of pleasure several times without ever letting him reach a climax. Then, after hours of seeing just how pointless the whole thing was, he was going to give up, declare that Crowley was right, and then never try this again.

“I-I can't-I...”

“I'll help you, my dear.”

Aziraphale let go of the toy, which continued to move on its own and started teasing one of his nipples between his fingers.

Crowley arched his back.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he all but shouted, pulling his legs back. Maybe it would go deeper like this.

“Be patient, my dear,” Aziraphale sang-sung, still rubbing his nipple and stroking his hair. “You know doing this any faster won't work, don't you?”

Crowley could have sobbed at that. “I know. Pointless.”

“Of course, if it did work and you were just lying to me before, this would be the moment to tell me.”

Crowley went quiet, momentarily blocking out the feel of the toy and the angel's hands and his own desperation to pay close attention to the amused tone in Aziraphale's voice.

Oh...

Oh, the _fucking_ nerve!

“You are an _absolute_ ,” Crowley growled, making as if he was about to get up and storm off, “wing-wanking basta- _aah!_ ”

Aziraphale pinched his nipple and Crowley fell back down, quickly subdued.

“And you are,” said the angel, not a trace of anger in his voice, “the most stubborn person I have ever met. Now say you're sorry.”

“Why? Not my fault you're so easy to fool- _nonononono_!” He squirmed to get away from another painful pinch. “I don't like that.”

“Then I won't do it again,” Aziraphale said, brushing Crowley's hair back. “And you're saying sorry because it's important to communicate truthfully.”

Crowley whined.

“Go on. Say it and I'll make you come.”

“You're enjoying this power trip too much, angel.”

“You know what? I think I am. Now apologize.”

Crowley growled, then mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Was that so hard?”

Crowley would have said it was if the toy hadn't started moving a little bit faster and deeper than before. Not a lot, only enough for him to notice. Crowley spread his legs further.

“Touch me,” he hissed.

“I am touching you.”

“Like you did before, angel.”

“Oh, do you mean here?”

He reached for his clit and rubbed it gently with his index finger, but only for a second. Crowley threw his head back.

“Yes... yes, do that again.”

“In a moment. Come like this, first. Just from this.”

Crowley whimpered. “I don't think I can-”

“You can. I'll help you.”

The toy picked up some pace. It twisted and turned and hit all the right spots.

“Oh _fuck!_ ” Crowley arched his back and flailed his arms, blindly grasping for anything to anchor him. Aziraphale let go of his hair and pinned his hands above his head.

“I got you. You can do it, my dear. Let me see you come.”

There was a babbling sound coming from Crowley's mouth, not a word, not a plead, but something high pitched and undignified. He was glad to be blindfolded. He was glad he didn't have to look the angel in the eye while making such debasing sounds, his hips grinding the thing that was fucking him forcefully, chasing the pleasure that felt so far away until it was finally in his reach.

He pressed his lips together not to make a fuss about it – old habits, he supposed – but he didn't bother pretending, which made the whole thing so much better than before. He threw his head back and let the orgasm wash over him, unrestrained and blinding.

“Beautiful,” Aziraphale said, watching Crowley shiver in the aftershock.

The demon panted. “Shut up.”

“You are. So beautiful. So good. Let me give you what you want.”

Fingertips slid down his chest. Crowley didn't even register where the angel was going until he started rubbing his clit again.

“Yes! Yes, that! Do that again!” he whimpered, already moving to the rhythm of Aziraphale's touch.

He had missed this. Hell, he had craved for this for three days straight.

It didn't mattered that he'd just had a powerful orgasm, he came in a matter of seconds, keening and writhing until the feeling faded, leaving behind a breathless, peaceful shell of a body that was shivering long after the angel pulled his hand away.

For a very long moment, Crowley didn't move, unsure of what to do. Last time, he'd had to tell a lie, to trick and deceive. Now, all he could do was lie and wait, his sweaty body sticking to the couch and slowly becoming colder. The toy Aziraphale had been using to fuck him had been pulled out of him, making his sore pussy drip and ache.

Aziraphale was the first to speak, saying, “Turn around. Let me get this off of you.”

Crowley turned around, pulling his arms down but making no indication that he wanted to move from Aziraphale's lap. The blindfold slipped away, revealing tired yellow eyes.

“There. Look at me, my dear.”

Crowley didn't move.

He reached for Aziraphale's belt and began to undo it.

Aziraphale startled and said, “You don't have to-”

“Angel, shut up and stop being so altruistic. It's very annoying.”

Crowley expected him to put up more of a fight because he could tell the angel had remained sexless the entire time he'd stimulated him. Maybe he really wasn't interested in having sex with him. That was as far as his protest went, though, and when Crowley was done unbuttoning his fly, there was already a bulge bellow the fabric.

Crowley had only ever lied with one other man before, so he wasn't in a position to compare sizes, but he could tell Aziraphale was at least bigger than his first lover had been. He'd dare guess he hadn't told a lie before and was indeed bigger than average. It felt warm and thick in his hand and Crowley brushed his lips on the side of it.

A light hand rested on the back of his head, an assurance rather than a pressure.

“Will you... would you lick it for me, my dear?” came the coy request.

Crowley's tongue darted out, tracing the side of the angel's cock. He had no idea what he was doing, but it didn't seem to matter because that alone dragged a sigh from Aziraphale and he sounded pleased. He repeated the same motion a few times, not following a rhythm or a pattern, just experimenting with the way his member felt on his tongue. He knew people took them into their mouths, though he couldn't tell how they could make them fit. Maybe he'd have to practice.

He could do that. Practice, over and over, until he could pay the angel back for turning him into a puddle.

After a moment, Aziraphale asked, “What do you want to do, my dear? Anything you want.”

Crowley sucked on the head of his cock for just a moment, wondering if it would be difficult to make him come like this. Then, he pulled back and straddled Aziraphale's lap, already fighting to open the many buttons on his vest and shirt.

“Why do you have so many layers?” he hissed.

Aziraphale miracled his clothes away with a wave of his hand.

Crowley wanted to make a sly remark about how desperate the angel was, but then Aziraphale's eyes fell on him and he couldn't remember how to speak.

“Crowley-” he started saying.

Crowley kissed him. He didn't want to hear it, didn't want to talk. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him tight, lips moving against him with urgent tenderness. It was wet and sloppy, but also slow and teasing and Crowley could have gotten lost in this.

Without pulling away, Crowley lowered himself on top of the angel.

“Here, just...” Aziraphale said, breaking the kiss just to position his lover in the right place. “Just spread your legs a little further- there.”

The toy had only caused him mild discomfort, but this hurt. Not excessively, just enough to remind him that this was a novelty and that he should take his time. He slid down the length of his lover's cock inch by inch, just like Aziraphale had done before.

“You're so tight,” the angels whispered, already kissing and biting his neck. “So wonderfully tight.”

“Angel...” Crowley hissed, forcing his weight down to let the thick of it in.

“Slow, love. Don't hurt yourself.”

Crowley could feel it stretching him further, making him _his_ , and that thought alone was comforting. It made the ache worth it. It made it easier to take it all in until the angel was fully sheathed in him.

Aziraphale nuzzled his neck and shoulder. Crowley held on to him and didn't move. He couldn't. He didn't want the angel to slip away. He never wanted to feel empty again.

Aziraphale must have sense this because he held him by the waist and flipped their positions so that he was now lying on top of Crowley.

“I got you,” he said, rocking gently into his body.

Crowley wrapped his legs firmly around him, the pain igniting for a moment, then fading away, replaced by more interesting, familiar sensations. He held on to the angel's shoulders, ran his fingers through his hair, held his face close to kiss him, over and over, until they were both breathless.

“I want to make you come, angel.”

Aziraphale brushed red hair away from his forehead.

“I thought you hated the messy bits.”

Crowley smiled against his mouth. “Not when it's you. Go on, angel. Make me all filthy.”

Aziraphale kissed him slowly, almost reverently.

“Beautiful,” he said, picking up the pace. For once, Crowley didn't mind the flattery. “Perfect. You're perfect, my love. You're so good to me.”

Crowley squeezed his legs and arms tighter around him. He was close, too. He could feel it. Just a little longer... just a little more...

Aziraphale came with the softest gasp, fucking deeper into his lover for several minutes, riding the wave of the orgasm to its last second. Crowley came only a moment later, clinging on to him and not wanting to let go.

 _We're doing this again_ , Crowley thought. _We're doing this again as soon as I can catch my breath._

Aziraphale pulled out of Crowley but didn't get off of him. Crowley let his sex squeeze, then let go, pleasantly sore. He _was_ rather sticky, but not in a hurry to get rid of it yet. Holding on to the angel was worth lying in this mess for just a little longer.

Aziraphale kissed his neck, making his way to Crowley's ear.

“You know what?” he whispered.

“Hm?” Crowley asked, light-headed and quite enjoying the angel's warm breath against his skin.

“This was wonderful.”

Crowley smiled, “I know.”

“And do you know what else?”

“What?”

“I told you so.”

Crowley groaned and covered his face. “ _Ooh, fuck you_!”

Aziraphale laughed, kissing Crowley's red cheeks while the demon whimpered. He knew it. He _fucking_ knew it. He was never going to live this down.


End file.
